


Cold-blooded

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: South Downs Cottage fics [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has ADHD (Good Omens), Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Interdependence, Other, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), snake biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24741637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Aziraphale had told him to stay inside, but of course he didn't listen. What kind of a demon would he be if he listened to an angel? No, he wanted to do something special for Aziraphale, wanted to show him that, yes, he could cook if he wanted to.Where had that got him? Stuck on the floor because his stupid reptile body decided to shut down in the cold.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: South Downs Cottage fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960858
Comments: 18
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

Crowley knelt over the garden bed, harvesting the last of the vegetables. Aziraphale had gone to town for the day to do some shopping, and Crowley wanted to surprise him with a homemade meal.

Winter was approaching, so the vegetables were becoming smaller and more bitter. 'This will probably be the last batch of edible veg,' Crowley frowned.

The demon busied himself salvaging the produce. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the temperature dropping to a chill. His body, however, did.  
As he rose to go back inside, he felt it. Or, rather, he didn't feel it. He couldn't feel his legs.

"Aww, fuck!" he muttered as he stumbled through the door before collapsing, face down, on the hardwood floor.

Thankfully, his arms were still functioning, so he rolled himself to lie on his back. The vegetables he had painstakingly collected were now strewn on the floor beside him, and he could do nothing about it but wait until sensation came back to his legs.  
Aziraphale had told him to stay inside, but of course he didn't listen. What kind of a demon would he be if he listened to an angel? No, he wanted to do something special for Aziraphale, wanted to show him that, yes, he _could_ cook if he wanted to.

Where had that got him? Stuck on the floor because his stupid reptile body decided to shut down in the cold. The fact that he hadn't managed to close the door behind him didn't help matters at all.  
Now what'll Aziraphale say?

'He'll tell me what a bloody idiot I am,' Crowley thought bitterly.

As the cold wind blew in through the open door, he felt the un-feeling feeling creep up his torso.  
If he just had the energy to miracle the door closed…..

"C'mon, y'bloody plantsssss….help me out here," he slurred, barely able to lift his head to peer at the garden.

'That's odd. Don't 'member th' garden lookin' that fuzzy,' Crowley mused, feeling very fuzzy himself.

'M gonna discorperate 'n scare Aziraphale.'


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale tapped his foot impatiently on the cottage door, arms full of groceries.

"Crowley, love, do open up. My hands are full!" he called out, hitting the door with a light kick.

When Crowley didn't respond, even so much as a "ngk, Angel, you can miracle yourself inside for Heav-Hell-Something's sake," the angel became annoyed.

"Crowley! Please, I can't go on straining my arms like this!" he yelled.

Now he was concerned.

He put the groceries down and opened the door.

"Crowley!" he shouted.

The cottage was silent.  
A draft blew in from the direction of the kitchen, and Aziraphale shivered.

"Crowley, did you leave a window open again?" he scolded to the seemingly empty cottage.

As he held his arms around his body, realization hit him like a cold slap in the face.

"Fuck!" he cursed, and ran to the kitchen.

His worst fears were confirmed when he found Crowley, lying seemingly dead on the kitchen floor, the backdoor open. He pressed a trembling hand to his partner's ice-cold throat. It was faint, but there was still a pulse.

"Oh, Crowley, my love, what have you done?" the angel murmured.

With a flick of his wrist, the wretched door closed, and the damn wind finally abated.  
As he carefully gathered the unresponsive demon in his arms, he noticed the vegetables on the floor.

"My darling," he breathed, realising that Crowley had been doing something for him.

Now, if a human had found their life partner in Crowley's position, they would have been a tad more panicked than Aziraphale was. That's not to say that Aziraphale wasn't panicked, but he definitely wasn't dialing 999 thinking they had found their partner dead in the kitchen. He knew better than that.  
Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time this had happened to Crowley, since the demon had little sense of self-preservation when it came to doing things for his angel. At least that meant that Aziraphale knew what to do in these kinds of situations.

Holding Crowley in his arms, he carried the demon upstairs to their bedroom, where he laid him out on the floor before going to the washroom. He turned on the tap for the bath, and then returned to his frozen partner.

"This won't do," he tutted, carefully peeling off Crowley's clothes, so no more heat would escape. He then took off his own shirt, and held the stiff demon to his chest.  
Aziraphale winced slightly as Crowley's frigid skin touched his.

"Oh dear. If I'm feeling uncomfortable by the temperature, I can't imagine how you must feel, darling," he remarked mournfully.

The tub was now filled with warm water, and Aziraphale carried Crowley to the bathroom. He expertly tested the water with his elbow. Too cold, and Crowley's state would worsen. Too hot, and his body would go into shock from the sudden change in temperature.  
The angel took off his own trousers and pants, and climbed into the tub, still holding his partner to his chest.  
As gently as he possibly could, he eased the demon into the warm water, so that most of his body was submerged. 

Aziraphale sat in the tub and stroked Crowley's dark hair with one hand, and massaged his back with the other. He had no idea how long Crowley had been out, so it could take some time before the demon returned.

"I do wish you'd take better care of yourself and listen to me," he admitted.

Talking to Crowley helped, he realized. He wasn't quite sure if he could hear him, but it was a comfort, at least, to speak to his life partner. It reminded him that he wasn't, in fact, dead, just in a sort of sleep triggered by a drop in temperature.

'It isn't fair,' he thought to himself.

As an Angel, he never had to worry about temperature. His body was always at the perfect temperature, which, lately, had been slightly warmer to accommodate his partner's reptilian needs. Demons, he knew, found it nearly impossible to ever be at a comfortable temperature. Most demons, the Fallen Angels, at least, had been tied to a stereotypically squeamish creature. Crowley, of course, had been tied to a snake. Hastur, to a frog; Ligur, to a chameleon; Beelzebub, to a fly; Dagon, to an eel; and so on and so forth. What all these creatures had in common, was that they had quite the difficult time of regulating their internal temperature, being cold-blooded. Such was their curse, to constantly have to wander to find a safe place, never safe in their own skins. They were cursed to suffer.  
Though he would never dare say it, Aziraphale always thought that Crowley shouldn't have fallen. He had seen other demons and the horrors they were capable of, and Crowley never seemed to him like one to be the malicious, unforgivable type. Sure, he liked a good prank every once and awhile, but no one ever really got hurt. Crowley was different.

The bathwater was turning cold, so Aziraphale gently climbed out of the tub, carrying Crowley. Perhaps he was imagining it in his hope, but the demon's body felt just a little less cold.

"I'm going to warm you up, my dear. I promise," he told Crowley determinately, pressing a kiss to his cool forehead.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley blearily whimpered as his vision came back into focus. He wasn't in the kitchen, he could tell. Everything was still a bit blurry, but he could make out the shapes surrounding him well enough to know that he was in his and Aziraphale's bedroom.  
Aziraphale... That's how ended up there.

"Azzzziraphalllle?" he called out faintly, his voice more snake-like than usual.

His life partner's radiant face came into view.  
"Crowley! You're awake!" his angel smiled, cupping his face.

Guilt washed over the demon. Aziraphale looked so relieved. He must have been out for a long time to scare him like that.

"How...how long wasssssss I gonnne?" he asked shamefully.

"I really don't know for sure how long you were unconscious before I came home, but since I found you, it's been about five hours," Aziraphale informed him, holding him close.

"Mmmm. You're warm," he sighed, rubbing his cheek against his angel's soft belly.

"That was the idea, dear, although I did have the heat lamp and thermal blanket for when I had to leave you to put away the groceries. I nearly forgot about them, but thankfully they didn't spoil before I remembered to bring them inside. I guess the cold air acted like an ice box," Aziraphale chuckled.

"M sorry, angel- ah!" Crowley gasped as sensation returned to his body.  
He bit his lip to keep from letting out a string of unholy curses.

"No need to apologise, my love. We've been through this before," Aziraphale told him firmly, and proceeded to massage his throbbing legs.

"I shouldn't've- aargh- been outside- oww- though," Crowley insisted between groans of pain.

"That's true," his partner agreed primly.

"I wanted to make ssss-sssssomething- ngggk- for you," the demon explained through gritted teeth.

"I figured that much, my dear. You really are quite the romantic."

Crowley grimaced, both from the complement and the searing pain.

"What were you planning on making?" Aziraphale asked sweetly.

"Not quite ssssssure. Maybe a sssstew, like a ratatouille, or sssssomething…"

"Oh!" the angel exclaimed, lighting up like the sun.

"I thought the same thing when I saw the tomatoes, aubergines, and courgettes," he revealed, tracing a heart into Crowley's palm.

"Ngh. I had ev'r'thin' planned out. My sssstupid ssssnake body had to ruin it," the demon pouted.

"My poor dear. It's not all ruined, is it? I _did_ make the ratatouille. It's on the stove when you're ready to eat. I thought a warm stew would be perfect to warm you up."

Crowley blushed at Aziraphale's sentiment.  
He tried to bring himself to a sitting position, but failed, and collapsed with a grunt into his partner's lap.

"Please don't exert yourself, my love. You know you have to let your body return to its functionality slowly," Aziraphale rebuked him, patting his bare chest.

"Wanted to kisssss you," Crowley mumbled, his ears turning the same shade as his hair.

"You could have just said so, dearest," Aziraphale cooed, leaning down so his face hovered above Crowley's.

Crowley strained to lift his head just a bit so his lips met his angel's.

"You're very stubborn, you know that?" Aziraphale chided when their lips parted. He had obviously noticed that Crowley had, indeed, exerted himself to give him that kiss.

"M a demon. What can I ssssay?" Crowley teased.

"I think we should get some food into your system, dearest," Aziraphale told him, changing the subject.

"Alcohol?" Crowley suggested hopefully.

Aziraphale shook his head with amusement.  
"I don't think that's the best idea right now, love."

He pressed a kiss on Crowley's chest before climbing out of their bed.

"Angel!" Crowley protested, trying to reach out to his partner.

"I'm only going to kitchen to get the food," Aziraphale assured him, draping the thermal blanket around his cold partner.

"Don't take too long," Crowley insisted, nuzzling against the warm fabric.

"I won't," Aziraphale promised. 

A few minutes later, the angel returned with a tray of food.

"Sssmells nice," Crowley remarked, flicking his tongue.

"Made with love," his partner chuckled, setting the tray on the bed-stand.

"No sage, right?"

"No sage," the angel confirmed, propping Crowley up with pillows.

"M afraid you're gonna have to feed me like a baby," Crowley said regretfully, nodding his head to his limp arms.

"I assure you, my love, I have no qualms about that. I don't mind taking care of you."

"M sorry you're stuck with me," the demon told him softly.

At this, Aziraphale took Crowley's hand and looked at him sternly.

"I am not "stuck" with you, Crowley. I _chose_ you. I don't care what shape you take, or how able-bodied you are. Don't insult my judgement by belittling yourself like that. Do you not realize that I love you?"

"I jusssst feel so ussselesss ssssometimes. I don't want to hold you back."

"You are not useless, Crowley. Who knows exactly what kind of pressure I need when the world gets too overwhelming?"

Crowley looked down, then finally answered, "me?"

"That's right, my dearest. And who knows exactly the right texture that feels right on my skin?"

"Me?"

Correct, my love. Who understands me, even when I can't find words to express myself?"

A beat, then, "me?"

"Right again, Crowley. And who has unwaveringly been by my side, no matter what, through plagues, wars, famine, death, and even the Apocalypse?"

Crowley looked up, and softly answered, "me."

"I am devoted to you, my dearest, my one and only Crowley, just as you have been devoted to me. This is a partnership, my love, and just as you're always here when I need you, I'll always be here when you need me."

"Love you, angel," Crowley murmured, his fingers giving a faint squeeze to Aziraphale's hand.

Aziraphale smiled one of his warm and adoring smiles.  
"I love you, too, my dear."

"Now," he straightened, "we better get to the food before it gets cold."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the ratatouille a homage to my favourite Pixar movie? Yes. 100% yes. In case there was ever any doubt.


End file.
